


everybody's looking for something

by adozendays



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Beyond AU, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings, It Makes Sense in Context, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Sugar Daddy, basically Herbert did not go to jail, but by accident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adozendays/pseuds/adozendays
Summary: During Dan Cain’s latest bachelor party, Herbert West, of all people, makes a connection with one of the dancers. After spending an evening in a private room, talking science, he finds himself returning to the club on a regular basis. A series of odd, but on-brand events, leads to Herbert gaining a new assistant and becoming her benefactor. Or to put it simply: Herbert accidentally becomes a sugar daddy.
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Francesca Danelli, Herbert West/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. pour some sugar on me

“You sure you don’t want a dance? I could be your specimen. You could be my mad scientist.”

A year before, Herbert had promised to come to Dan’s next bachelor party and be the best man at his next wedding in exchange for some rather vital help. It had all been done in jest on both sides, as neither of them had truly believed that Dan would be getting married for a fourth time. He had married Gloria in order for her to have a happy final few weeks and because in a way, he did love her. Not long after her passing, he had married his second wife after getting her pregnant. Shelia had died in a car accident when their daughter, Chelsea, had been five. Dan’s third wife, Jillian, had lasted less than a year before running off. Their divorce had been finalized two and a half years ago.

However, a little less than a year ago, Dan had run into that journalist they had met in Peru years ago and now he was marrying Francesca in a few weeks. Tonight was his bachelor party. Which was how Herbert had wound up at Arkham’s premier strip club, Call of Venus, sitting stiffly in the admittedly comfortable chair as you stood on either side of his legs, which were clamped together. The sides of your thighs were touching his bag. 

The bachelor party was a small one this time. It was Dan, Herbert, George Collins, Victor Williams and Eric Green, who were colleagues of theirs at Miskatonic and the intern that had become Dan’s protégé, Howard Phillips. Their colleagues had ensured that the bachelor would have the whole place to themselves. Dan was politely watching two of your co-workers dance together while a pretty blonde had Howard’s attention. The men who had arranged this hellish evening had also made it clear that everyone was to be called doctor and even specified that Herbert and Victor were also scientists in addition to being doctors.

“No thank you,” Herbert answered firmly, barely glancing at you. Your body was covered in glitter and you smelled like a warm, heady perfume. You were wearing something that looked like very small denim shorts with black elastic on the sides and a shirt that was off the shoulders, barely covered anything and tied in the front.

“Yes, yes. Miss, Herbert really needs a lady’s special attention. He’s just shy. Take him to the private room!” Eric yelled.

“Sweet Jane, you up for that?” one of your colleagues asked and you nodded. Herbert debated whether or not he should just leave, but then he realized that being in a private room meant that he would be away from the party and he would be able to get something done there, if there was adequate lighting. And while he didn’t know a lot about those in your line of work, he was sure that that you would be fine with just sitting around for a while.

“Sure. He’s cute.” You thankfully pulled away from him and beckoned for Herbert to follow you to the private room. Dan was gaping in surprise when Herbert was able to get a brief glimpse of his friend’s face.

The private room was roughly the size of a small bedroom, with lighting that was very red, but adequate. A black leather L-shaped couch took up one wall and part of another. Herbert was taking in the room when you grabbed his hand and pushed him down onto the couch, straddling his lap. “The rules here are a little looser than out there,” you said, your hands loosely wrapping around his tie. “You can touch me, though obviously there are limits. We can’t-.”

Herbert cut you off by removing your hands from his tie and pushing on your shoulders, which made your get off him and sit next to him on the couch. “I am not interested in your services…Sweet Jane. I agreed to come here so I could do some work in peace.”

“What sort of work do you do?” you asked, cocking your head a bit, as if you were truly curious. Though Herbert supposed that in your line of work, one had to be good at pretending to care. But he was also eager to discuss his work, even to those who probably would not understand a thing about it.

“I am doing some research into biomarkers that would indicate whether or not a body is worth reviving in the event of brain death,” he said, putting it in the simplest terms that he could. Your brows furrowed together, and your eyes then lit up and you leaned in a little closer, which was a bit unnerving.

“You’re not Herbert West, are you?” You asked, stressing his first name.

“Yes I am. How do you know who I am?” Herbert was somehow more wary, unsure of what would come out of your mouth.

“How could I not? You’re a fucking genius! I’ve read everything you’ve published, even that bitchy letter you sent to Science News when you were an undergrad. Your work in DNA repair just blew me away. Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re right here in front of me.” You were downright giddy, bouncing up and down enough for him to notice that your shirt could hardly contain your assets.

It was the first time anyone had recognized him outside of academic circles. Though Herbert didn’t exactly travel outside of those circles on a regular basis. And even if he did, he had not expected to run into someone familiar with his work at a place like this.

But he wasn’t going to complain.

–

“Hey, Herbert, it’s time to leave.”

Dan peeked into the private room where Herbert had been for the past two hours. He had no idea what he had been expecting to see but seeing the two of you pouring over his notes and talking as if you had known each other for years was not it.

“This was a surprisingly pleasant time…Sweet Jane.” Herbert saying your stage name sounded odd, but the rest of the sentence was genuine, the third surprise of the night. He awkwardly handed you some bills, which made you practically beam.

“Likewise, Dr. West. Tonight was great. Come back any time.” You punctuated your goodbye with a peck to his cheek and stuffed the money into the waistband of your bottoms. The other members of the bachelor party gaped at the sight rather blatantly, having expected you to be ready to strangle West by now. That was how it usually went with most people who spent more than ten minutes with the man.

In the parking lot, Victor finally said what everyone was thinking. “What the hell happened in there, West? Did you fuck that girl?”

“We talked.” Herbert didn’t bother to elaborate, despite the others making their curiosity comically obvious.

“About what? Science?”

“Yes.”

–

Less than a week later, Herbert found himself standing outside of Call of Venus, on the verge of going inside despite it being in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday. He had been on his way home from the labs at Miskatonic when he had remembered you saying how on Tuesday afternoons, it was so slow that when you had been in school, you had been able to do homework in the back. That thought had led him to the club.

And despite everything swirling inside of his head, Herbert walked inside.

The club was nearly empty. One customer was asleep at the bar while two more sat at chairs in front of separate stages, despite only one them having a performer on it. The man in front of the empty stage was reading a magazine while the other one could have been sleeping or watching the woman dancing in front of him. Herbert made his way to the bar, noting that the bartender was the same one that had been working the night of the party.

“Is…Sweet Jane working today?” he asked, your stage name still coming out of your mouth awkwardly.

“JANIE, THAT GUY IS BACK!”

You came out from the back of the club, clad in what looked to be a very small bathing suit top and a skirt, both of them a dark iridescent color. Your black heels clicked on the floor as you made your way over to Herbert, who swore that the corners of his mouth wanted to twitch upwards for a brief moment.

“It’s good to see you again Dr. West,” you said, shaking his hand when he offered it. “You’re not here to ask for your money back, are you?”

“Of course not.” Herbert wondered if that happened often, already thinking poorly of those who either weren’t aware of what they had spent or regretted it for some surely foolish reason later. He knew that his tip might have been a bit much, but the conversation had been worth it, and it wasn’t as if he were hurting for money. Quite the opposite. “I…” Well, he couldn’t say that he wanted to see you again. “There are further things I would like to discuss relating to our previous conversation.” Herbert swallowed the lump in his throat. “If I may have some of your time…”

“Well, I have to go on stage in five minutes but maybe afterwards? If you have the time.”

Herbert contemplated the offer for a few moments before he found himself nodding. You returned to the back of the club and he just stood there before going to the center stage, where the sleeping man was sitting. He tentatively sat down and waited for you.

“Up next is a girl as sweet as she sounds…Sweet Jane!” the DJ announced, Herbert flinching at the sudden shouting.

You moved slowly to this first song, a gloomy blues-rock number. Herbert had to admire the way you moved, every part of you working together perfectly to create a sensual series of motions. Of course, he was observing you as a scientist would, not like the other men at the club.

Though as you danced to ‘Bad Medicine’, a song Herbert did know, your top came off and he had no idea how to feel or where he should be looking. So, he focused his gaze on a point on the wall that was not near the stage or the sight of your (eventually) naked body. By the end of the third song, another tune that he did not know, he was relieved, in a way. It felt wrong to be watching you when he wasn’t here for…that.

After you had left the stage, Herbert had gone to arrange time in the private room with you. It cost extra, of course, but he saw it as a small price to pay if that meant he would be able to continue his discussion with you.

Backstage, you put on your ‘uniform’ again and began to get ready for the hour you were to spend in the private room with Dr. West. You had been half-hoping to see him again, eager to pick his brain and just hear what he had to say. But this place wasn’t his usual scene, which had been obvious from the moment you had laid eyes on him. You had thought you would never see him again, so seeing him in the club today had been the most pleasant surprise you’d gotten in a long time.

“What are you doing?” one of the other dancers, Brandy, asked as she watched you pull on your jeans, which was sort of the opposite of what most of the girls did when they went to the private room.

“Dr. West wasn’t really comfortable with me being so…underdressed the last time I saw him. I thought this would put him more at ease.” You also quickly tied up your hair and wiped off some of the body glitter that had gotten on your hands and arms, so you wouldn’t decorate any of the paperwork this time.

Brandy shrugged, muttering something that sounded like ‘weirdo’ under her breath. You didn’t respond, knowing that she was right. Dr. West was a strange man. But this club got its fair share of weirdos and he was a different flavor than the usual sort that came through here. You didn’t feel like he was thinking of how he could get his dick in one of your orifices, which put him a few rungs above the usual sort of weirdo that came through the club.

It didn’t hurt that the tip he had given you had ensured you would be able to pay rent this month. He had given you a very good night’s worth of tips, which had been more than the other girls working the bachelor party had earned. And all you had needed to do was talk to him about something that was actually interesting. In the back of your mind, you knew that this might too good to be true, but you weren’t going to question it.

The private room didn’t have the red lighting this time around, which was going to make reading things a hell of a lot easier. You took a seat on the couch, maintaining the same distance as last time. Dr. West already seemed more relaxed than he had last time, which was a good sign.

“How have you been, Dr. West?” you asked, not sure if you should hold out your hand for a shake again, so you kept your hands to yourself, on your lap. “How did that imaging experiment work out? Did you get the results you had hoped for?”

Herbert was surprised that you had remembered the off-hand remark that he had made and that you seemed sincerely interested in his answer.

“Not quite. I will have to adjust some of the variables and run the experiment again,” Herbert responded, and you nodded. He reached into the stack of notes on his lap and withdrew a particular page to show you, as it had information that he thought you would find interesting and maybe even have some insight on.

You had to move closer to read the page and he took notice of your perfume again, finding it pleasant this time. “Fascinating stuff, Dr. West,” you murmured, scooting even closer and much to his surprise, Herbert didn’t try to push you away, even though you were a hand’s width apart from him at most.

–

Two weeks and two days later, Dan’s wedding was two days away and Herbert had been back to the club four more times since that second visit, bringing your meetings up to six. By now, he was considered a regular, despite him only being there to see you for an hour or two or drinking anything other than water. By this sixth visit, he was engaging in awkward small talk with the bartender and one of the dancers sitting at the bar as he waited for you to join him. 

The two of you had started to talk about yourselves by the fourth visit. You had moved to Arkham in your youth and had gone to Miskatonic for your bachelor’s, having majored in Biochemistry. But you had been unable to afford grad school, for reasons you had yet to tell him, so you had put off attending and were working here to save up for it. In turn, Herbert had told you where he had been born, the various schools he had gone to and even about Dr. Gruber’s passing, leaving out the exact nature of the experiments. Though the latter had been because you had asked, as Herbert had been linked to Dr. Gruber in several papers and articles, the association stopping with the older man’s death. 

You had told him your real first name by the third visit and it was not any variation of Jane. Your stage name was taken from the song you had danced to for your audition, a spur of the moment choice that had stuck. 

There was only a half hour left in your time together when the subject of the wedding came up. “His fourth wedding?” you asked, sounding mildly incredulous. “Have you been to all of them?”

“Yes, I have. Even the first one and that was held in a hospital room.”

“What?”

Herbert had to crack a smile at your wide-eyed expression. “That is a story for another time.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Dr. West.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and not for the first time, Herbert thought about seeing you outside of this place. And then, the next words just slipped out of his mouth.

“Are you working on Saturday? I am allowed to bring a guest and having you as my…date would make the event more tolerable.”

You furrowed your brows for a few moments. “I am…” Saturdays were lucrative, and you had been lucky to get the evening shift, as opposed to getting stuck on days. The night shift would have been too good to give up, but evenings could be profitable. You did not want to risk throwing away a good thing, even though your first instinct had been to say ‘yes’ to his offer.

“I will compensate you for your time and any associated costs of attending.” Herbert saw the hesitation on your face and figured that he might as well ‘sweeten the deal’, as the saying went. Your expression changed, the hesitation leaving it and you even smiled.

“Alright. I can switch shifts with someone else. Just give me the time and place where we need to meet.” You were not going to allow him to know where you lived, and Herbert respected your common sense.

It didn’t need to be explained that this was just going to be you accompanying him to the event. Nothing else was going to happen. Herbert was not going to be paying you for your body, merely your time. That had been clear from the day he had met you. The lack of demands from him was the main reason that you had accepted the offer. The money had been the cherry on top. His visits had already helped you plenty in that department. But of course, you were not going to refuse the cash. Every little bit helped with your goal of returning to school. 

–

When Dan had heard Herbert was bringing a date, it had been at the very last possible moment, two days before the wedding. The wedding planner had thankfully assumed that the best man would be bringing a date, so there wouldn’t be a lack of food or seating. But Herbert had never brought a date to any of Dan’s weddings or any other event in the near decade and a half that Dan had known him. Even after Herbert had told him that he would be bringing someone, Dan hadn’t thought it would be happening.

So, when Herbert introduced Dan to his date, the groom was a bit blown away. You were pleasant, shaking Dan’s hand and congratulating him on his marriage with a smile on your face. It took him a moment to remember where he had seen you before and once it was just the groom and groomsmen, he began to ask Herbert questions.

“How did…that even happen?” Dan asked, his eyebrows practically in his hair.

“She has a name.” Herbert’s voice was bland, as if this happened every day. “After your bachelor party, I went back to her place of work to continue the discussion we’d been having. And it went well, so I kept returning.”

“Are you two…?” Howard asked, butting in on the conversation. The look that Herbert gave him made the younger man shrink back. No one else had even considered the question. Herbert was a lot of things, but he was not a womanizer. Or flirtatious. But that just made him bringing a stripper as his date all the stranger. Somehow, he had made a human connection with someone, a rare thing for Herbert. Most people just tolerated him, very few liked him. The few attempts that Dan had made over the years to set him up with someone had ended…poorly, to say the least, every time.

But it seemed that Herbert had managed to find someone on his own.

Herbert’s best man speech was very short and perfunctory, his tone deadpan as he thanked the guests for attending and stated that he was going to be there to witness the new life that Dan and Francesca were going to build together. As if to make up for Herbert’s barely a speech, Dan’s daughter, Chelsea, made her own speech and recited a poem that she had written to welcome her latest stepmother.

Once all of the speeches were done and the first dance was out of the way, it was a socializing free for all. Herbert stuck by your side for most of the event, though there were a few occasions when the two of you weren’t attached at the hip. And on those occasions, both of you were besieged with questions. Who, what, when, where, why, how, the usual inquiries. Not that there weren’t questions when the two of you were together.

Both of you gave the same answers. The two of you met through your work, he was a regular, this was not a romantic relationship. Though as the night went on, the two of you started to become coyer with your answers on the latter, making a silent agreement to do so after one particularly pushy colleague of Herbert’s would not let the matter go. It was amusing to see people try and figure out what was going on, especially when they were drunk.

The only time the two of you danced was near the end of the night. It was merely another way to play with people’s expectations and notions, the two of you doing the most basic box step to ‘La Vie en rose’. A third of the guests were gone by then, which helped a lot. Dan observed this spectacle with confusion, Francesca approved because at least Herbert was participating and Chelsea was encouraging the photographer to get pictures of this because they would need photographic evidence of this or else everyone would probably eventually believe that it was a mass delusion of some sort.

At the end of the night, Herbert sent you home in a cab, waiting for it with you outside of the venue. 

“This was fun,” you said, smoothing down the skirt of your floral dress. You had purchased it the day before, still unable to believe that you were getting paid to just…attend a wedding. And there was now the disbelief that you’d actually had a good time. “Thank you for inviting me…Herbert.”

“You are welcome.” Herbert was equally surprised by the fact that he’d also had a good time, which was only compounded when you kissed him on the cheek as your taxi pulled up. 

It went unsaid that the two of you would be seeing each other soon.


	2. Chapter 2

The changing area of the club only had two other women in there when you walked in to get ready to go on the main stage. You sat down in front of a mirror and began to touch up your makeup, making sure that your dark red lipstick was still perfect, that the dried blood dark red was only on your mouth. That your hair was perfect, tied up in just the right way.

“Is your old man coming today?” One of the other women in the room with you, Chanel, asked with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Yeah, Sweetie, are we gonna see your sugar daddy?” The other woman, Mystique, joined in on the ribbing, which only made you roll your eyes.

“Both of you are total tools, first off. And second, it isn’t like that.” You adjusted your skirt, which was barely covering your ass. The triangle top under your mesh shirt was the same color as your lipstick and the rest of your outfit was black, even your thong and heels. “It’s purely intellectual. What happens back there is totally platonic, hand to God.”

Aside from the handshakes exchanged as greetings and those two kisses on the cheek, there was no touching. Unless the random hand graze counted, which did they did not in your book. The time spent in the private room was filled with talking, usually about science. Occasionally, the topic strayed from science and to other things. After the wedding, you had started calling Dr. West by his first name, at least in the back room. A few times, the two of you had swapped personal stories, which had felt like something that you couldn’t really name. It had been a month since the two of you had met and Herbert already felt like an old friend. Sometimes you found yourself thinking about him when you weren’t even at work.

Though you weren’t going to be telling people that all willy-nilly.

“No suh,” Chanel fired back. “The dude comes here at least twice a week; drops mad cash and you’re telling us that you’re not doing anything with him back there? Or even off-site?”

“Yah huh. We just talk and stuff. He doesn’t even look at my tits. Check the tapes.” Or at least, you hadn’t noticed. After a while, you had dropped your guard a bit, enough that you weren’t always on alert around Herbert. It was actually rather nice to feel kind of safe around someone.

“Girl, you were his date to a wedding.” Mystique did have a good point, or at least she would have if it had been anyone else.

“Yeah, and he was super respectful. We danced once and there was more than enough room for Jesus the whole time. Dr. West isn’t here for any funny business.”

“So, what is he here for? He’s kinda cute, for a nerd. I’m sure he can get a date if he tried.” The key words were if he tried. You knew that Herbert wasn’t the type to go out there and play the game. As much as you liked him, you couldn’t see him playing nice or being suave in order to get a woman into bed.

“I guess he’s here to talk.” You shrugged and sprayed on some perfume. It was time to go on stage. Though your mind was on what Chanel had asked. Why did Herbert keep coming back? Maybe he was lonely, or maybe he was bored. It wasn’t your place to try and dissect his motives. You weren’t going to fuck up a good thing.

\--

When Herbert arrived at Call of Venus, you weren’t on stage yet, so he went to sit at the water. Sasha, the bartender, poured him a glass of water, the beverage on the house. Herbert was a regular and it was just water. The owner of the club, Estelle, joked about letting him have a free couple of hours in the private room because he was such a valued customer. The private room had a hidden camera and after the third visit, Estelle and Sasha had checked the footage. To their shock, what you had told them was happening in there was actually happening. Just talking about nerd shit.

After that, the general attitude towards Herbert had started to shift. By the time July rolled around, he was a welcome sight at the club. He didn’t touch, he barely looked and most importantly, he made brought a little something to the table. Herbert was a bit creepy and definitely odd, but he unnerved the exact sort of person that the women who danced at Call of Venus wanted to be unnerved. It was like having a grizzly bear guarding your house from raccoons.

As Herbert waited for you to arrive, Sasha rested her arms on the bar, leaning across it slightly. It was a slow afternoon, so she had nothing else to do. Which meant it was a good time to try and get a feel for this odd man that had become a fixture, see if he had a fixation.

“Sweet Jane is a good kid. Hard worker.” Sasha said, making sure that Herbert knew she was talking to him.

“Yes, she is.” Herbert looked uncomfortable, which was exactly what was supposed to happen. Honestly often came when a man was thrown off balance. 

“Our girl’s wicked smart, ain’t she?” The syntax was intentionally ambiguous, to make him wonder if ‘our’ was referring to the women of the club or them and Herbert.

“Indeed. She’s always brings something to the discussion and has been helpful more than once.” Herbert’s uneasiness had ebbed away just a bit, enough to make him use multi-syllable words, but not too much.

“Sounds about right. She’s a doll.” Sasha half-smiled, noting that the DJ was settling into the booth, meaning that your set was going to start in a few minutes. Herbert nodded in affirmation. “Real pretty, too.”

There was an actual reaction from the good doctor, Herbert nearly choked on his water and his hand was shaking as he set his glass down. The announcement of your arrival rang out a moment later. It was a crapshoot whether or not he would stay at the bar and not even bother looking at the show or if he would go sit in one of the chairs in front of the stage and pretend to watch. Seeing what he would do was a little game.

This time, Herbert faced the stage, his eyes fixed on the usual point on the wall during the half of the first song. But as ‘Bad Medicine’ went on, his gaze moved and he began to watch the show for a few seconds at a time, looking away quickly. And yet, his eyes would drift back to the stage within moments.

By the time ‘I’m a Slave 4 U’ was halfway through the first verse, Herbert’s attention was wholly focused on the stage. Though this particular number might have been the wrong time for that. You’re on all fours, writhing and crawling on the stage by the chorus. The mesh top had come off during the first song and the skirt was gone just before you dropped onto your hands and knees.

Herbert could not stop his heart from pounding or even the sweat prickling on his palms. But he could keep himself from showing emotion on his face and he tried to stop the rest of him from reacting. The only sign that the sight before him was affecting the scientist was his even more rigid than usual posture and his clenched fists in his lap. You were right in front of him within the blink of an eye, smiling provocatively and he knew the etiquette. So, he awkwardly stuffed a bill into your bottoms, though it was on the outer part of your thigh, his fingers grazing your skin for a moment as he retracted his hand.

It’s the closest he’d come to intimate contact in a very long time and Herbert then felt an internal rush of mortification over considering that brief touch even remotely…like that. And yet, he could not look away. Even when your other top came off.

For the first time, Herbert took notice of how you looked. He had never truly noticed before, but he was suddenly struck by the way you were formed. How soft your skin looked, the curve of your hips, the shape of your legs, the movement of your back’s muscles, the place where your legs met your back…

After your set, Herbert went back to the bar to get another glass of water. It was around five by now, so the club was starting to get some more customers. And at the bar was Warden Brando, as he liked to be called. He was another regular and from the moment he had laid eyes on Herbert, Brando had loathed him. Brando was a sleazy man who tried to circumvent the various rules about touching and didn’t even bother to try and speak to the dancers respectfully. You were one of his favorites, which was likely the main source of his animosity towards Herbert.

“What are you doing, wasting your time with this guy?” Brando asked when you approached Herbert so the two of you could retreat to the back room.

“You can’t keep up with me, warden,” You rolled your eyes as you beckoned Herbert to follow you.

“I’m sure I can, missy.” Brando grabbed your elbow and you yanked yourself free within seconds, muttering something that sounded like ‘pendejo’ under your breath.

“If you can’t read the signs, they say that you’re not allowed to touch the employees,” Herbert said dryly as bouncers grab Brando to haul him off. His comment made you giggle, which makes something spark dully in his chest even before you take his hand to lead to the back area.

\--

After your shift, you were in the parking lot of the club, waiting for Herbert to come and give you a ride to your place. Or more accurately, the end of your street. Your car was in the shop and he had offered to give you a ride when you had mentioned that you were not looking forward to taking the bus home. You had accepted, since it was safer than public transportation in this part of town.

You were wearing your Miskatonic t-shirt and a pair of shorts, the shirt soft from frequent use. As you rifled through your purse to try and find a stick of gum, fingers enclosed in your hair and gave it a hard yank.

“You’re nothing but a little puta.” Brando smelled like cheap booze and cigars as he pressed himself against your back. “If you were in my domain, I’d teach you a lesson. In fact, I’ve decided to do so anyway.”

Brando held onto your hair and pushed you over to a nearby parked car, shoving you into it, likely in an attempt to disorient you. You stumbled and nearly fell. The contents of your purse spilled out and as if by divine intervention, the very thing you needed landed right by your hand.

“This is what you’re going to do-.” Brando grabbed your hair again, pulling you up. Before he could finish his thought, you had turned around and swung your arm. With one motion, your pocketknife sliced his throat open. The look of shock he gave you became the warden’s death mask as he fell to the ground, trying to staunch the bleeding by pressing his hand to his throat.

Just as Brando breathed his last, Herbert pulled into the parking lot and quickly caught sight of the scene. He hurried to your side, staring down at the corpse sprawled out on the pavement. You were breathing heavily, still holding onto your knife tightly as you trembled, staring down at the body.

“What happened?”

“He grabbed me. When I saw that my knife had fallen out of my purse…I just reacted.”

Herbert nudged the body with his foot. Brando was indeed dead. When he looked back at your face, your eyes were starting to widen and your lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. Panic was starting to set in.

“We need to call the police,” you stammered out. “Right? There’s a phone in the club. Oh fuck, I’m gonna go to prison…”

“No, you aren’t.” He knew what he had to do and it was only partially because the body could be of use to him. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do, Herbert. I trust you.”

The corners of his mouth twitched up and Herbert went to unlock the trunk of his car. As always, it was lined with a tarp. “Grab his feet.”

\--

In your life, you had made some questionable choices. By far, going to the house of a man who was far too comfortable handling dead bodies and had a tarp lined trunk, a man who lived in a graveyard and who was fine with helping you get away with murder, was the most questionable thing of all.

When he parked the car in front of the house, Herbert turned to you. “I will require your assistance to carry the body to the basement. Discretion is vital, as Dan’s daughter is staying here.”

“What are you going to do with the body?” You asked, calm returning to your voice. This was almost too much and it was almost liked you had snapped. You had definitely been driven so far off the edge that you had looped back to being chill about whatever the fuck was going on.

As Herbert met you gaze, he recalled that you had vocalized your trust in him. He was aware that you could have killed him too, as well as how what had actually happened could come off as. So, he decided to be partially honest right now, just to test the waters. “I am going to use him to for my personal experiments. I am in need of parts and he will do.” The warden was not a man that deserved to be brought back in any way, at least intentionally. But his parts could be useful in testing new solutions.

What he had told you the night you had met ran through your mind, biomarkers that would indicate whether or not a body is worth reviving in the event of brain death, and you nodded as the pieces began to come together in your head. “Alright then. You don’t kill people for fresh parts, do you?”

Herbert shook his head, choosing to interpret the question as you asking him if he went around killing people who had done nothing to him just for their freshly dead parts. And that was not his modus operandi. He took chances when they truly presented themselves, that was all. Just as you had done tonight. “Come. We can’t dawdle.”

Getting the body down to the basement was the easiest part of the night so far. Herbert was very good at opening doors and navigating through the house while carrying a dead body. You tried not to think about that too much, though the sight of the basement lab chased all thoughts from your mind.

“Holy shit, your set-up is fucking impressive.” You nearly tripped as you took in the sights. This was right out of your dreams, though with a little less color. But there was so much equipment that you thought you would only see in books and on TV and it was right there in front of you. The urge to touch was immense. But you held back, even at the sight of what looked like a mass spectrometer.

“Thank you,” Herbert awkwardly accepted the compliment as he set the warden’s corpse onto a table.

The silence seemed to go on forever. You watched Herbert get the saw, not sure what to do now. After all, you still needed a ride home. But there was a dead body to deal with. Of a man you had killed. In self-defense, yes, but you had still killed a man and Herbert had helped you get rid of it. The club parking lot had no cameras, so maybe just maybe…you would get away with this.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out your next words. “Do you need any help with the…dismemberment?”

The saw was in Herbert’s hands when you asked that, and he actually paused as he walked back to the table. Your offer to help made his insides lurch madly for a brief, terrifying moment.

In response, he handed you the saw. “Start with the head.”

Maybe this was a test, to see if you truly had the stomach for this sort of work. You took the saw confidently and rested the blade against the warden’s throat. “Any tips?”

Herbert stood next to you, almost smiling at the sight of you standing over a corpse, your bloody fingers wrapped around the saw’s handle. “Don’t try and get it all done in one or two goes,” he murmured. “It’s better for it to be done neatly than quickly.” You nodded and as the blade sunk into flesh, his hand found its way to the small of your back.

\--

With a satisfied sigh, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself. It had felt so good to shower off all of the grime. As it turned out, dismembering a corpse was nasty work. You had taken care of the head and then Herbert had taken over, with you assisting with handling the pieces. He had then walked you through the preservation process, even allowing you to handle the fingers of one hand.

By the time the two of you were done, it was past midnight and you were starting to become tired. So, when Herbert had offered to let you spend the night, you had pondered it over for a few moments before you had nodded. At this point, you trusted him to not have any ulterior motives. After all, he had just dismembered the corpse of the man you had killed. Add in the month of platonic visits, and it was no wonder you trusted him.

The list of people you trusted was very short. Short enough that Herbert cracked the top three.

You found Herbert in the guest room down the hall from the bathroom, a t-shirt in Miskatonic colors and a pair of boxers in his hands. “I only have this for you to wear,” he muttered. “The shirt’s never been worn. And I left you my robe.” He gestured to the garment hanging on the closet door.

“Thank you.” You smiled and took the clothes from his hands. “For everything.” And has you had twice before, you quickly pecked him on the cheek.

“Ah, yes, well…good night.” Herbert cleared his throat and left the room, leaving you behind. Thankfully, you had not seen his face starting to flush and he remained composed as ever until he was in his own bedroom, the door locked. Only then did his hands begin to shake. You had been in a towel, still damp from the shower and he had been able to smell his soap on you, which had made him feel things that he shouldn’t be feeling. After all, if he had to put a name to whatever the relationship was between the two of you, it was ‘colleague’. Not something else.

And yet, the image of you in that towel and of you on stage haunted his dreams, despite Herbert’s efforts to keep you off his mind.

\--

Even with all of the effort that had gone into hiding things from her, Chelsea Cain had seen some weird things during her twelve years on this planet, especially during the years she had lived in this house. She had seen some weird creatures running around and had heard even stranger noises coming from the basement.

But seeing a woman in the kitchen, wearing her godfather’s robe while she made breakfast, was the strangest thing Chelsea had seen in a long time. Even if she did recognize the woman as Uncle Herbert’s wedding date. She knew what you did for a living, since the other guests had been whispering about it. But you had been nice to her and not in that fake way that adults tended to be.

“Good morning,” you said cheerfully. “I’m making French Toast. You a fan?”

“Um, yeah.” Chelsea went to start the coffeemaker, still giving you a questioning look. There were also sausages being cooked as well. Herbert only had real food in the house because she was here while her dad was out of town and she had been cooking her own meals, so it was nice to not have to do that. “Two questions: do you want coffee and like, why are you here? No offense.”

“Sure. And, none taken.” The latter response was a relief, since Chelsea tended to be too blunt, a side effect of having spent so much of her life around Herbert. “Well, I’m here because your godfather and I had some work to do and by the time we were done, it was late. So, I crashed here.”

Doesn’t explain why you’re wearing his robe, Chelsea thought, but she kept her mouth shut this time. “Okay. Cool.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, can you go tell him that breakfast is ready?”

“He doesn’t really…eat. But alright. I kinda wanna see how this plays out.”

Much to Chelsea’s surprise, Herbert came up from the lab when she informed him that you had made breakfast.

A part of him had expected you to be gone when morning came, and he would not have begrudged you for doing so. But you had stayed and cooked for him, even though he hadn’t asked.

While he had been in the lab that morning, after resting for a little while, Herbert had been admiring your work. The cuts you had made were rather good for someone with no experience in dismemberment and you had been able to preserve the specimens impeccably. He had not felt the need to amend your work, which was unusual.

That was the final push he needed to make the offer he had been toying with extending for the last week. It had just come to him after one of your suggestions had worked out beautifully, an impulsive thought that would usually be quickly banished. But this one had stayed and had been lurking in the corners of his mind until now, when it had burst to be forefront.

After Chelsea had gone back upstairs and Herbert was sure that the two of you were able to speak freely, he asked you to sit down because he had something to ask you. Seeing you in his robe, sipping coffee from a mug that he actually remembered buying made him feel like everything was falling into place for some reason.

“I am in need of an assistant for my personal projects and perhaps for my professional ones as well. As you proved yourself to be more than capable last night, I am offering you the position.”

You took a few moments to mull it over. “What would the hours be like? I’m sure I can handle the work, but I don’t want to cut down on my hours at the club.” You still needed to eat and pay rent, bills, generally live.

“The work I do is very demanding, so I would require your full attention, meaning that this would be your only job. Of course, I’ll compensate you fairly.” Herbert then named a figure that made your eyes widen. That would be more than enough for you to maintain your current lifestyle and barring any major incidents, you would be able to return to school next year, at least part-time. “And if you are still interested in returning to Miskatonic, that can be taken care of as well.”

“What?” You were in shock, unable to breathe and barely able to breathe. “Herbert…I can’t. That’s too much.”

“It would be easier for you to be my assistant at the university if you were enrolled there.” Herbert pretended to sip the contents of his own mug, needing to take a moment. “You have too much potential for it to be wasted, anyway.”

You let out a little choked noise and before Herbert could respond, you had grabbed his hand, enclosing it between both of yours. “Okay,” was the only word you could manage, the loveliest smile Herbert had ever seen on your face.


	3. Chapter 3

_Do you love me? (I can really move)  
Do you love me? (I'm in the groove)  
Now do you love me (do you love me?)  
Now that I can dance? (dance)_

When Dan walked into Herbert’s house, he was momentarily caught off guard by the music. It had been two months since Herbert had hired you as his assistant and everyone was still getting used to the whole situation. Even the two people in question were still kind of processing that they were no longer really alone now, that someone was a part of their lives.

While you still technically had your own place, you spent more time at Herbert’s house than you did in your own apartment. After all, the two of you worked long hours, especially once the school year had started up again. Herbert had been able to hire you as one of his research assistants, the only person on the team that he had chosen personally. The others had been hired by the head of the department, as it had been done in the past. You were his right hand at the university, the two of you often seen walking across campus together, deep in discussion. By the end of the first week of classes, rumors had started to swirl. Now, three weeks into the school year, the rumors were starting to be taken as fact.

When Dan had heard that Herbert had hired you as his assistant, he had confused, to say the least. Herbert hiring someone to be eye candy was the last thing on Dan’s mind when he had tried to talk about it with his friend. The talk had not made things any less confusing.

_Herbert took the storage container out of the freezer and opened it up. The severed head didn’t make Dan flinch. He was long used to seeing horrible things when Herbert was around. “Look at these cut marks, Dan. They’re so…clean,” he said, his voice full of what sounded like admiration. “It was the first time she had ever dismembered anything. How could I not hire her?”_

_There was an actual smile on Herbert’s face. The usually stoic man looked almost besotted as he spoke of his new assistant, how they had already fallen into step and that his work was going so smoothly now._

While the women who had worked with you at the strip club had been worried about Herbert taking advantage of you, it had been the other way around for Dan. He had tried to subtly ask you questions that would reveal any sort of nefarious intentions. Much to his surprise, you had very plainly told him to cut the shit and just ask if you were a gold-digger. You had told him that you were in this for science, for the chance to work with a brilliant man. The money was a bonus.

After that, as well as seeing the pair interacting in and out of the lab a few times, Dan had decided that this was all on the up and up, on both of their ends. Though it was still a bit strange to see someone else at the house, especially someone so full of life. Music played; the curtains were pushed back to allow sunlight to stream into the room. Sometimes, the smell of food would be lingering in the air. Part of your duties included keeping the house in order, especially since Herbert would allow it to decay around him unless it affected his work, which meant that the house was slowly starting to become less cluttered.

When Dan found the source of the music, it was in the library. You were darting around the room, going from pile to pile of books. It seemed that you had finally convinced Herbert to actually organize the library, instead of his system of semi-organized chaos that didn’t always work. Herbert was at his desk, pen in hand as he looked over whatever he was working on.

“Hey, Dan!” You chirped in greeting, spinning a bit to properly greet him before going to pause the radio. Herbert looked up and frowned for a moment as he tried to remember why Dan was here.

“Just stopping by on my way home to make sure the two of you are still coming tonight,” Dan joked. Tonight, there was a fundraising event and Herbert was being forced to make an appearance, to secure funding for his department. The donors wanted to see the great Dr West, after all. You were going with him, to keep him in line and for other reasons that Herbert refused to admit.

“Of course. We’ll be there at six.” Herbert was clearly not looking forward to having to put on a tuxedo and socialize for several hours. But at least this time, he would have you to make the evening somewhat tolerable.

“Alright then. Just wanted to make sure.” There was some more small talk before Dan left, leaving the scientist and his assistant alone in the house once more.

“It won’t be that bad. We’ll only be there for a few hours and if it is truly unbearable, I’ll lie to get us out of there.” You sat in the chair in front of Herbert’s desk. “Just remember that it’s for a good cause. The best cause.” You were a bit nervous, as this was a big event, leagues above anything you had gone to in your life. It wasn’t open to students, so the only ones who attended were the ones accompanying someone who had been invited. None of your friends/teammates were attending, and they had made you promise to spill the beans about the event, after teasing you playfully about going with their boss.

Ironically, the grad students were the most mature when it came to talking about the relationship between Dr. West and his assistant. It was the other scientists and doctors who were crude about it. One afternoon, when both Herbert and you had been in the lab, albeit working on opposite sides of the room, one of Herbert’s colleagues, a geneticist named Pollard, had asked where he could ‘get one of those’ and crudely gestured to you, who had been standing as you bent over a microscope.

In response, Herbert had shot him a withering glare and continued with his work, not bothering to answer the question. If Pollard couldn’t understand that you weren’t here to be looked at, then he didn’t deserve to be spoken to. On Pollard’s way out of the lab, he ‘accidentally’ tripped over your bag, which had mysteriously left the cubby under your table.

“A few hours are still several too many,” Herbert murmured, and you snickered, shaking your head slightly.

“It could be fun. There will be free food. And we can people watch.”

Herbert looked up and into your eyes, which were so…bright. So full of life. It was as if the very thing he was trying to create in his lab was living in your eyes. His throat went dry and he nodded, grabbing a file from the desk drawer to distract himself from the thoughts that were starting to form in the corners of his mind. You were soon back on her feet, the music playing as you continued to try and make the room make sense.

\--

“You look dashing tonight, Dr. West.” Dr. Joan Booth, head of bioengineering, said in greeting. “As does your…companion.”

Herbert nodded, glancing over at the bar, where you were waiting to get some glasses of wine for the both of you. It was the first time in the hour since the two of you had arrived that he was apart from you. The evening had been going fine so far, the two of you able to make civil conversation with some of the donors, a first for Herbert. Everyone had been surprised to see him show up with a woman on his arm at all and when you had remained at his side the whole night, the two of you working as smoothly in a social setting as you did in the lab, that had started up some whispers. Herbert had to admit that you looked lovely in your pink (dusty rose, you had corrected him) evening gown, to the point where he had willingly posed for a picture with you, your hand on his chest and his arm around your shoulders.

“Yes, she does,” Herbert said evenly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to Dr. Booth, hoping he would not have to engage in mindless chatter for very long.

At the bar, you were waiting for the wine when you were approached by Victor Williams, who had been one of the other attendees of the bachelor party that had brought you and Herbert together. The two of you had briefly interacted a few times and it was understood that neither of you would bring up the circumstances of how you had met. It had been awkward at first, but at least he could actually talk to you now. That was nice.

“So you’re here with West, huh?”

“Yeah.” You awkwardly smiled and prayed that the bartender would return soon.

“Are you and him like…seeing each other?”

“I see him every day.” Of course, you knew what Williams meant, but that didn’t mean you were going to give him the satisfaction of a solid answer. It was far more interesting to be vague and see how people would react to that.

The main reason that it was funny at all was because things were very much not vague. If you were worried that Herbert was thinking of trying something, even if that concern was only lurking in the corners of your mind, then it wouldn’t be as amusing. But there was no real danger, so it was okay for you to smirk as you walked back to your date, a glass of wine in each hand.

Herbert was trying to extricate himself from a conversation with Dr. Booth and some of the donors when you returned to his side, silently handing him a glass of wine. Herbert’s arm snaked around your waist, squeezing your hip for a moment, which literally raised some eyebrows.

“So how long have the two of you been together?” Dr. Osborn asked after you introduced yourself.

There was a brief moment when your eyes met Herbert’s, both of you thinking of the little game that the two of you had played during the wedding. The coy answers wouldn’t work this time, not exactly.

“Since July,” Herbert answered smoothly as you sipped your wine in order to cover up your expression and stop from giggling.

“It’s still new,” you chipped in once you had regained your composure. “Which is why we were trying to be discreet.” Your tone shifted into one of vague admonishment, as if these people had been sort of in the wrong for asking about the relationship. “But the cat is out of the bag, as they say.” There were no rules against this relationship, though a third, impartial party would have to review some of your work in order to ensure that there was nothing sketchy going on.

Though right now, as the news circulated through the party, no one was thinking of ethics. They were thinking of the how and why, some of them wondering about the who.

“So you and um...whatsername are a thing, huh?” Dr. Yates, a pathologist, asked Herbert as he waited for you to return from the restroom.

“She has a name,” Herbert responded dryly. “Yes, Y/N and I are a...thing.”

“Good for you, man. Always thought you were the kind of guy to crack open a cold one, if ya catch my drift.”

“I don’t. Enlighten me.” You had returned, seemingly out of nowhere, smiling innocently as you waited for Yates to reply.

Yates stammered and walked off, leaving the two of you to try and repress your amusement. Both of you knew that you would need to talk after the party, but right now, for once, both of you were just enjoying the moment.

\--

It was nearly midnight when the two of you returned to the house. It had gone unsaid that you would be staying the night, because that was what happened most nights these days. The guest room that you had slept in that first night now had plenty of your things in there, half of the food in the cupboards had been brought for you for yourself.

You went to make tea for the both of you upon arriving back at the house. Half the time, Herbert didn’t even drink it, but he still accepted the mug every time, recognizing the meaning of the gesture. He sat at the kitchen table, watching you move about the kitchen with ease, as if you had lived here as long as he had.

“So, what are we going to do about what people are assuming?” You asked, sitting next to Herbert, as opposed to across from him, which was the norm. “If we are going to do anything.”

“It might not be a bad idea to not do anything about it. People were...friendlier. Some of the donors implied that this helps my image enough for them to want to fund my research.” And the better his image, the more pull and esteem Herbert would gain. It would benefit the both of you, as you were practically his partner. You could climb very high with him, which you were very much aware of. 

“People do like the idea of us. It’s a real Cinderella story.” If Cinderella had run off with her fairy godmother. 

You looked into Herbert’s eyes and there was a fleeting desire for this to be real, that you didn’t have to pretend. But you pushed it away and forced yourself to keep your eyes locked on his. 

It was such a simple thing. The two of you already spent so much time together, were already such huge parts of each other’s lives. Both of you had no family, though for different reasons. It wasn’t even that much of a lie. 

How could you say no? How could he?


End file.
